


Where is my face?

by theycalledittheficofdreams



Category: Gotham - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Oral, Smut, fem reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 08:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10658979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theycalledittheficofdreams/pseuds/theycalledittheficofdreams
Summary: What if you were the ME's assistant when newly redirected Jerome was brought to the GCPD? And you've missed him.





	Where is my face?

Your feet were aching, you'd been walking constantly today and were just dying to have a rest. You just had to get the medical files for Jerome Valeska for Dr Tompkins and then you could sit down, hopefully for at least ten minutes. The intern in the office handed you the file, you didn't know her name, not yet. You had met so many new people, the detectives the CSIs all of the interns and your mentor, Lee Tompkins. She was kind enough, but having Jim Gordon as an ex kind of put a downer on your views of her. You see, Detective Gordon hated the people you considered friends, especially those such as your very much dead friend on the table in the morgue. You slid out his photo from the file and smiled. He was so handsome, his beautiful smile, shining eyes and bright hair. You hated how he'd died, you had sobbed for weeks, but then you'd found your escape, your emergency exit if you will. It was easy to get away with murder if you examined the bodies, and your interest in medicine landed you an internship with the Gotham Police Department's ME. It was a golden opportunity to keep your dirty little secret. So many of your bodies had passed over the slab you now worked at, yet the one currently there... that body started them all. Sucking in a breath you tucked the photo away, burying your emotions before heading to the morgue. 

Eyes fixed on the file, you pushed the door open and walked in. "Here's the file you asked for" you said. Finally looking up you met eyes with a very frightened Dr Tompkins and then you saw a familiar smile shrouded by bandages galore. "Well, well," you cooed, attempting to keep your cool, "this is unexpected."   
The barrel of the gun in Jerome's hand moved, it was pointing at you now. Your eyes locked and he licked his lips, or what he had left of them. "Are you going to continue to tease me or hurry up and kill the spare?" you asked, impatient to rid the room of the witness.   
"Have it out for the Doc, do you Kitten?" he purred.   
You could feel the sides of your mouth pulling up as he called you his little pet name, you'd missed that. "No... just wanna talk without an... audience," you replied, finishing with a wink.   
"I get you babe," the clown told you. Without hesitation, or even taking his eyes from you, he shot the Doctor in the head, her body slumping to the ground. The gun lazily found its way back to you. "It looks to me you've changed sides Doll" he spat at you. 

You half contained a short laugh, "Look again Sugar." A smug smirk plastered on your face.   
"So what's my little girl doing in the GCPD working for the good ol' dead doc over here, huh?" he rested his chin on his fist, listening intently as you told him of the tales of the last year he'd missed.   
"Wow" he used his gun to mimic an applause, "well that is quite a story. You know, I know I've been dead but doesn't that seem kinda crazy to you?"  
You chuckled, sliding onto the cold metal table behind you. "Hey maybe you're crazy, try shooting yourself" you threw at him with a grin. He took his gun and held it to his bandaged head, pondered for a moment and laughed.   
"So, tell me more about this cult. They think I'm pretty great, huh?" His voice was liked candy for your ears, it had been so long since you had heard it, teased it, played with it.  
"A bunch of raving lunatics and idiots" you leant back on your palms, letting you hair hang loose behind you. You could sense his grin as he stepped up from his perch.   
"Ooh lunatics and idiots?" He stepped toward you, reaching out a hand. His grip angled your face to his and he looked right into your eyes. "Our kind of people." You laughed, he laughed, both of you enthralled in your madness. 

Cough. Splutter. "Sorry" he croaked although the following giggle was reassuring enough. "Head's still a little fuzzy, you know I was just reborn. The last year was nothing but darkness," he leant into your face, his breathe warm against you, "as far as the eye can see." He jumped on the spot and swivelled, the gun twirling until it pointed right at the limp corpse on the floor. "I know her, right?"   
"Yes" you purred, not revealing anything.   
"Did she and I ever... you know?"   
"Gods no," you flung at him.  
"Ginger not her type?" he joked.  
"I don't share." you said cooly, sinking back into your relaxed stance.   
"Ohh, I remember you my little minx" he purred, tracing the skin on your thigh with his finger tips. Again, like a switch he snapped back to the doc. "Oh! She's Jim Gordon's... twinky"   
"Well, she was" another cruel laugh from your lips.  
"Oh... no? That's a shame, I liked them guys. What happened?" his curiosity seemingly piqued, you filled him in on what you'd learned from Dr Tompkins about her... hilarious wedding! "Heh heh hah ha ha ha" his soft laughter filled the room again, once more Jerome's joy sparked your fire. He spun in circles as you watched, simply enthralled by his liveliness after being stone cold less than an hour ago. "Wow... you miss a lot being dead.... including you my little carnival kitten." A shimmer in his eyes shone as he took the two steps necessary to close the space between you. 

You'd missed this. His touch, his everything. It felt so right to kiss him again. The table was cool against your now much more exposed skin, his too. He'd locked the door and climbed onto the examination table with you. Exploring your body with his tongue he found each new scar you had and licked it with individual care and precision. As he found his way between your thighs he moaned against the soft flesh of your thighs. The vibrations sent a new wave of heat through your core. He chuckled. Torture had always been his forte so with expert pace he crept up between your legs parting them for his head to sink in between. So slowly, he used his reborn tongue in ways you'd never felt before, toying with your clit until you shuddered under his touch. It wasn't until your moans turned to pleads for release that he teased your entrance with his hardened cock. Beneath him you squirmed, attempting to thrust your hips into his, yet his firm grip kept you in place. "Did you miss me?" he leant down to your ear, gently biting the lobe of it.   
A muffled "yes" was heard from within your moans, resulting in laughter and ecstasy as he plunged into you without restraint. Together you were harmony. He thrust deep into you and your combined cries were a lost symphony. It was a wonder that you remained in interrupted for the length of time the pair of you were together. 

Panting you lay together on the now slightly less cold metal, sweaty and slightly craving a cigarette. You hear him sigh after a while has passed.  
"You know, there's about a hundred cops on the other side of that door ready to kill you all over again" you mentioned as though it were a casual remark. He scoffed, "I see your point..." he pondered for a moment. "To business, when I was last.. uh you know, alive. I was about to kill Bruce Wayne and I suppose I didn't manage to..." you shook your head, "no. Right." He got up from the table, irritated suddenly. "Theo Galavan killed me," he seethed, "that jug eared judas. Well I suppose I should start by killing him" he added on the end nonchalantly.  
"As much as I love your thinking" you soothe, "Theo Galavan is dead."  
Like a child who ran out of candy he groaned. "Aww, who beat me to it?"  
Suppressing your own amusement you replied, "which time?" This did not impress Jerome, with a venomous tone and a thrilling calmness the asked you, "Theo Galavan came back to life too?"  
"Mm hmm" you smiled sweetly. He echoed you then barked a rough kind of laugh.   
"That Son of a Bitch is always upstaging me, well..." he smiled at you again, his anger vanished. "Yes I'm just missing one thing then..." he crept right back to in front of your face, his bandages brushing against your nose. He cracked a beautiful grin and laughed, "Where is my face?"


End file.
